


Seeds of Infatuation

by Inuy21



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Inspired by artwork, Masturbation, Sexual Content, Those Three Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inuy21/pseuds/Inuy21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A take on how Bulma and Vegeta might have hooked up during "those three years".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds of Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a work of art on DA by ginkoflowers.

Bulma kicked off her high-heels as she closed the door to her home. "What a lying bastard," she muttered half-heartedly. "Couldn't keep his fucking eyes off that damn waitress." One shoe smacked against the wall, followed shortly by the other one. "I don't need him anyway. There's plenty of work that needs done right now." She padded down the darkened hallway, not bothering to turn on the lights when she knew exactly how to get where she was going--the kitchen. Her date with Yamcha had turned out so horrendous from the get-go that she couldn't even look at her food, and yet she hadn't eaten since lunch and needed to get something in her belly before bed.

"Argh!" She flipped the light switch to the kitchen on harshly, her finger catching on the switch and causing a sharp pain to shoot down her fingertip. "Men are so fucking stupid!" she continued to complain to herself as she stalked to the fridge while rubbing her sore finger.

"I beg to differ," came a rough reply.

Bulma felt a shiver go down her spine at the voice behind her. She spun around, her hand getting twisted in the handle of the fridge. "Shit!" she cried out as she pulled her hand from behind her and shook it. Tonight was just not going to be her night she decided as she stared at the back of Vegeta's head.

"You shouldn't class all males as stupid just because your waste of a boyfriend is a fucking moron." Vegeta continued to casually eat his dinner. "So what'd he do this time? Forget some stupid-ass thing of importance that's floating around in your female brain?" He hadn't even laid eyes on the woman since she'd moved to the fridge, but he could feel her miniscule ki lashing with anger and now in his direction.

"It had nothing to do with something he forgot, unless you count him staring at the waitress and not at me, forgetting something," she bit out, staring at Vegeta's flame-swept hair.

The chuckle that filled the room was warm and thick as he dropped his eating utensil.

"It's not funny." She could feel tears build just under her eyes as the alien continued to laugh at her, the stress of the day finally getting to her racked nerves.

The room became quiet again, but only for a few seconds. "And I bet you laid into him like the bitch you really are, huh?" His words once again directed towards his plate.

Bulma scoffed, finally turning back to open the fridge and find something to eat before going to bed. "And what's wrong with that? Afraid of a strong-willed female, Vegeta? Of a woman who knows what she wants?" She pulled a few items from the fridge to make a quick sandwich and headed to the island counter to fix it.

It was Vegeta's turn to scoff as he dropped his utensil again. The chair scooted across the floor, making a screeching noise. "Show me one, and I'll let you know." His arms crossed as he now faced her, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

She looked up, a smile gracing her features, determined not to let Vegeta get to her. "Is that a challenge?" She continued to make her sandwich, looking from it to the man in front of her. "Well, right now I'd like to eat this sandwich, go to bed, and sleep off this terrible day. Then, I'm going to get up tomorrow, go to work, and not think about how fickle my ex-boyfriend apparently is." She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing and swallowing, while keeping her eyes locked with his. "Not all women spend their time crying over lost loves and pining after some asshole man that they think will make them happy in the long run. I don't need a man to make me happy and complete. All I need is my work."

"Sounds like a bitch in denial to me. I bet tomorrow you'll be down in your lab weeping your eyes out." He caught her eyes narrowing at his words. "You may be able to hide it from these other pathetic humans, but I don't believe any of it. Words are words, but those only get you so far." His arms uncrossed, hands planting themselves on the counter as he leaned over to get right in her face. "So I'll believe you when I see some action to back up those words you just used."

"Oh, and when are you around to check? Are you going to spy on me like some creepy stalker?" Her words came out mockingly as her blood began to sing at the thought of a challenge.

He scoffed, pushing himself away from the counter to stand straight again. "I'll give you until the end of the week to crack under the pressure of losing your precious mate. If you don't crack." He paused, eyes flicking from hers momentarily. "Well then, I suppose I'd have to admit that you are stronger willed than most of your type."

Bulma finished off her sandwich, pondering over the challenge. A week? Shouldn't be too horrible. After all, she had been the one to initiate the break up process. Of course that's the way things had always gone down. She would always see him eyeing some other woman, accuse him of cheating, break up with him, think about how stupid and childish she had been, and then Yamcha would come crawling back a few days later to apologize and start the whole cycle over again. "Fine, but you better pay up when I win."

"Tch. I doubt you'll make it through tomorrow," he sneered before turning away and leaving the kitchen.

~S~

The first few days flew by without a problem, well except for a few passing thoughts of how childish she had acted. She had stomped them down, though, as she had every reason to be pissed, and there was no way she was going to be the first to cave. Especially with the little bet she had made with Vegeta. She was definitely going to make the Saiyan eat his words and admit that she was stronger than he was giving her credit for.

By the third night, things took a turn for the worse. Yamcha had yet to even call her! She could understand that he was busy, but he'd always managed to at least call and apologize for his folly. As she lay in bed, palms pressing deeply into her eyes to remind herself not to cry, she knew tomorrow was going to be hell. She'd have to suck it up and be strong! 'I am strong! Why do I have to pretend?!' her mind berated. Damn right she was strong! She only had five more days to get through. She just had to remind herself that it was all Yamcha's fault.

The next morning she woke up sluggish, her body not wanting to move even after a full eight hours of sleep. "Oh, what a beautiful day," she mumbled grumpily, trying to get her spirits up. "Another wonderful day of confining myself to the lab and trying not to think about what Yamcha's up to and why he hasn't called me." She threw the covers off and pulled herself from the bed so she could start the best day of her life. Luckily for her, contact with Vegeta was minimal--only seeing him usually at breakfast and lunch--so, hopefully she could steer clear of him long enough to get her haywire emotions under control.

She purposely made herself late for breakfast, but as she was walking into the kitchen, Vegeta was walking out. His eyes caught hers as his lips formed into a smirk.

"Not looking so good today, are we?" he mocked in passing.

Her body straightened to it's full height. "I just had a late night, is all, thank you very much," she threw at his back.

"Tch." He couldn't exactly call her out on that one without admitting that he was spying on her--just a little. "Just remember, five more days."

"I know!" she spat, watching him leave to go to his precious GR. 'What a fucking jerk.' Why had she risen to his challenge again? It was perfectly logical to want to cry after a break-up, or to want that person back in your life. It didn't matter that your love for them was slowly dying. That no matter how hard you tried to work things out, you could only see the person's underlying faults. She shook her head. 'Breakfast and work,' she reminded herself.

So, for the next two days she dove into her work, her father's work, and even took a few trips over to the main building to see if anything or anyone needed help there. It had done the trick, but she eventually had to eat, sleep, and bathe. Those three necessities had cost her dearly when she realized there was still no word from Yamcha after a total of five days after their break-up, and the thoughts of his wandering eye and her slowly dying fire for him came to the forefront of her mind. Unfortunately, there were still two more days (the weekend) to make it through. She supposed she could throw herself back into her work, but she really wasn't sure it was the best choice. She could sit in her room and avoid Vegeta while pretending to relax. She shook her head. She would go about her daily routine: breakfast, maybe do a little shopping, lunch, do something to relax, dinner, then relax before bed. She gave herself a sharp nod.

She lay in bed again, tossing and turning, as sleep seemed to evade her as soon as she would close her eyes. She groaned and tossed the covers from her pajama clad body. She needed something to relax her mind, help her sleep, and perhaps help her forget Yamcha and the crumbling relationship she was still torn over. She wasn't sure if she was pissed at Yamcha for not trying to contact her or at the knowledge that he might have picked up on their deteriorating bond.

Upon entering the kitchen, she made a beeline for the liquor cabinet. Pulling out her favorite sweet strawberry wine, she headed over to the utensil drawer and pulled out the corkscrew. With a small grunt from her throat, a pop from the cork pulling loose, and a small amount of effervescence escaping, Bulma took her freshly opened bottle and headed to the living area to relax.

She flopped back on the couch, careful of the open wine bottle, and turned on the TV. She found something acceptable for background noise--she really only wanted the light--before taking the first big chug of the sweet liquor. The slight burn that accompanied the liquid sent a chill down her spine and made her nostrils flare. "So good," she mumbled, holding the bottle up to her face. She continued to feign interest in the TV as she continued to drain the bottle of it's delicious content.

The back door opened as she was taking another swig from the bottle, emptying it completely. "Good evening, Veggie-chan," she said cheerfully as she set the bottle down on the wooden coffee table in front of her.

Vegeta turned to look at the woman, a scowl on his face and a growl low in his throat. "Don't fucking call me that, woman." A hand supported his weight against the wall as he slid the shoes off his feet. What was her problem tonight? Her speech seemed a bit slurred, and she was far too cheerful for it being so late at night. He briefly wondered if that stupid scar-face mate of hers had finally contacted her, but as his nostrils flared he knew that wasn't the case. Alcohol, that was the cause of her good mood and garbled speech. Yet, somehow the pungent smell of the liquor was laced with a sweetness that tickled his senses.

"Stop being such a sourpuss, cranky pants." She looked over at him, seeing him standing there with his arms crossed against his sweaty naked chest. "Would you like it better if I called you 'Geta?"

Her teasing tone and slurred words, had him rolling him eyes. He ignored her question. "You're drunk. Do I even need to take a guess on why that is? Or are you ready to admit your weakness?"

Bulma pushed herself from the couch and sauntered over to the hunk of an alien man. It was a good night to have some liquid courage in her. It made her brain feel fuzzy--and so secure of her actions. Her eyes felt wide and her vision was a little blurry, but somehow she still saw things perfectly clear.

An eyebrow raised as he watched her stagger toward him, her unfocused gaze and her steps lethargic. "What are you doing, woman?" Before he could move to stop her, slender arms wrapped around his neck.

She pressed her breasts against his hard chest, as her head rested on his shoulder. "You were right."

The sweet smell of her breath caused his nostrils to flare again. Where had he smelled that before? It was bothering him to no end! He knew it was a familiar scent, but with the scent being laced with alcohol it was throwing him off.

"At least about one thing," she continued, oblivious to the alien's lack of attention. "I need a man in my life." His body tensed slightly under hers, and she smiled. "I've realized that my relationship with Yamcha is over. It's been over for a long time now, I just never had the chance to sit down and see it." She pressed a kiss on the edge of his jaw line, just below his ear. "Thank you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His hands finally pried her arms from his neck so he could shove her away.

She staggered and swayed but maintained her footing, and once she gathered her bearings and saw him still standing there--looking quite confused--she leaned back toward him. However, his reflexes being much faster than hers, her wrists were caught by his hands. "I want you, 'geta." Somehow she managed to conjure up some lightening speed and leaned over to plant her lips on his, her tongue sweeping out to run along his tightly sealed mouth.

His eyes went wide before pushing her away again. His tongue darted out to taste the sweetness that had been left behind. However, his mind was focused on the woman that had fallen on her butt, and not on what flavor his taste buds were picking up. A sneer passed over his features as the woman looked up at him. "I don't fuck drunk whores." With that said, he turned to leave.

Bulma felt the fire of rage course through her veins as she pushed herself back up. "Do you even know how lucky you are to get attention from Bulma Briefs?!" she shouted across the room. Her alcohol-induced brain not even giving a second thought toward being called a whore. The only thing that had crossed her mind was 'How dare this man turn me down!'.

Vegeta continued on his path away from the crazy, drunk woman.

"I'll have you know that I always get what I want!"

That made him stop. He turned his head to look back over his shoulder. "Be prepared to be disappointed because I don't want you."

Her hands fisted at her sides as she let out a scream.

~S~

"Bulma."

"Hmm." Heavy eyelids opened to see the brightly smiling face of her mother. "What is it, Mom?"

"It's 6a.m. and I was about to cook breakfast. Did you want any?"

Bulma's head shook slow and short as her stomach turned at the thought of food. "No thanks. I think I'm gonna go to my room."

"Oh dear, did you sleep out here on the couch?"

Her mother stood as Bulma pushed herself up. A hand rested on her head as she stood slowly. "Yeah." She licked her dry lips, tasting the leftover strawberry flavor from her wine. 'Ugh. Did last night really happen? I sure as hell hope not.'

"Do you want me to bring you anything? Any medicine?"

"No." Bulma refrained from shaking her head this time. "Besides, if I need anything, I should have some headache and upset stomach medicine in my room."

Her mother nodded. "Alright, dear."

Shit. What had she been thinking last night? All she had wanted to do was get some well-deserved rest. Instead she'd ended up half-drunk. Possibly hitting on Vegeta in the process. She groaned as she reached the stairs. Her eyes traveled up, only to catch the one person she really didn't want to see. "Vegeta," she bit out, starting up the stairs as he came down. He didn't respond, but the look he gave her was enough to let her know she had done something stupid last night.

She stomped up the stairs, not giving a backwards glance at Vegeta, and continued to her room. Once there she slammed the door, wincing a little at the loudness of it, and fell on her bed. 'It had to be Vegeta. Of all the people on this planet. I'm never drinking alone again!' She buried her face in a pillow and let out a frustrated scream.

That night and the next day, she dwelled on the situation. Okay, so she had apparently hit on Vegeta and kissed him. He had pushed her away. No big deal there. She had been drunk, she hadn't been herself. Therefore her actions were null and void, right? Vegeta wasn't human, though, so did he take offense to her throwing herself at him? Did Saiyan's have different customs? She shook her head, hands tousling her hair a bit. She would apologize, that was the only logical answer to right this fiasco. She walked over to her closet, deciding that after she took care of things with Vegeta; she would find out what Yamcha was up to and why he hadn't called her yet.

She picked out a simple white dress that came down to her knees and had a plunging V-shaped neckline that showed off the swell of her breasts. She decided to take a shower before pulling on the flowing summer dress. The dress most likely wasn't going to help with Vegeta, but it would sure do wonders when she got her hands on that ex-boyfriend of hers. She smiled, looking in the full length mirror to make sure everything looked good. Tonight was going to be a good night!

She made her way to the GR, only to find it shut down. 'Odd.' It was only 9p.m. Where the hell was Vegeta if not playing with his favorite toy? A shrug passed over her shoulders as she thought. He was either in the kitchen, his room, or out. She checked the kitchen first, but found it empty and silent. So, she'd have to check his room and if he wasn't there; well then, she'd just forget about her drunken night.

She walked down the darkened hallways of her home, but upon entering the hallway that would lead her to Vegeta's room, she flipped the light switch. Fluorescent light filled the hall as she briskly walked the straight path. She could feel her heart start to beat a little faster as she approached the door. It had been a long while since she'd last been here, and it certainly hadn't been for such a humiliating purpose! Her hand landed on the knob, turned, and pushed the door open.

The light from the hallway flooded into the dark room, and for a moment she felt disappointed that he wasn't there--signifying that his presence was most likely gone. However, her eyes scanned the room and found a surprising scene. Her mouth formed an "O" at the sight before her. Vegeta was there, lying naked in bed, with a hand fisted and pumping vigorously around his lower region.

After standing there, watching him pleasure himself, for a few minutes and him not seeming to notice her; she finally looked up to see that his eyes were closed tightly. She licked her drying lips when her eyes descended to his lips. His bottom lip was covered by his teeth as he breathed heavily through his nose. She'd never seen anything so erotic in her life before. Her eyes continued to travel down, noting that his other hand was tightly gripping the bed sheets at his side.

'What the hell am I doing?!' her mind finally screamed as her eyes landed back on the pumping fist. 'You should've just closed the door and walked away upon seeing what he was doing!' Her eyes refused to move, as did her body. 'You are just sick! Watching and enjoying this!' She finally blinked. This was wrong, and if Vegeta caught her. She closed her eyes and softly bit her lip. She didn't want to think about it, did she? She glanced back up at his face to make sure he hadn't opened his eye yet before turning to leave.

As soon as her back was turned, one foot stepping forward so she could leave, a sharp noise hit her ear. It was something between a grunt and a groan, and made her spine straighten and her head swivel back towards the bed. Her heart stopped as she took in the sight. The hand that had been working, now laid motionless. His breathing was even more shallow and erratic, but that wasn't what had made her heart stop. It was the now half-hooded eyes that were directed at her.

"Vegeta," she started, but stopped when saw him blink. Oh, Kami, what was she doing here? She should've taken off running instead of freezing up like she had. She saw him blink again, but his body remained mostly still. That and the fact that he still hadn't responded to her made her turn fully back toward the bed.

A smirk formed across her lips, as she made her way to the bed. Her greedy eyes feasted upon his naked flesh as she came to stand next to the bed. Her curiosity was definitely getting the better of her usually logical and scientific mind, but she couldn't seem to stop herself as she knelt down. Her arms resting on the edge of the bed, as her head came down to rest on them.

As she continued to stare at him--waiting for him to acknowledge her presence--she couldn't help but really look at him. From her point of view, she could see his glazed eyes still staring toward the door, and she was suddenly glad that she'd turned on the hallway light. If she hadn't, there would be no lighting to see him.

His senses were in disarray, and he didn't like it. There wasn't a whole lot he could do about it, though, except lay there until the world came back into focus. Yet something felt off. Why had he seen her standing in the doorway of his room? Sure he had been thinking of her, feeling her, as he pleasured himself, but why of all places had he seen her at the door? Why was she affecting him so?

Bulma examined him again, she couldn't help herself. 'It's just my curious side' she leveled with herself. She wanted to see if there were any other differences between a Saiyan and Earthling body. As her eyes persisted to take all of him in; her mind saw something more than flesh. It was a little unsettling as she somehow saw loneliness written across his features. The vulnerability of having seen a weakness in him that perhaps no one else had.

He blinked, and his nose twitched at a familiar smell. This time it wasn't laced with alcohol, and he knew what it was now. Those damn red berries the woman was seemingly obsessed with. What were they called again? As his eyes reopened, he saw a flash of blue. If he still hadn't been half-dazed, he might've started putting two and two together. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. His mind was muddled down from his intense release, and his vision was still filled with lingering snippets of a certain naked blue-haired female. "Get out," the words came out soft and rounded as he turned to look at the apparition at his bedside.

A breath caught in her throat as he turned to look at her. Upon seeing his still glazed and unfocused stare, though, she wondered if he was really seeing her.

"I said, get out of my head." Why wasn't she fading? How had she managed to get under his skin and into his finely tuned and controlled system? "Why won't you just let me be?" his tone getting a little more desperate. "I don't…." He didn't what? Want her? Need her?

Bulma made sure not to move an inch, afraid of shaking Vegeta into awareness. She didn't want that now that he was giving her more of his weakness. It was strange, though. His words; they sounded so much like her own thoughts when it came to Yamcha. Why couldn't she just focus on work? Why did she always have to be bothered with thoughts of a man she didn't love anymore? Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't love Yamcha anymore? She was suddenly interested and flirting with Vegeta? But why? Could it possibly be that she was infatuated with this alien man the same way she had been with Yamcha when she'd first met him?

Her eyes widened a bit. Was that it? Were all these conflicting emotions stemming from the fact that Yamcha had finally grown-up? He wasn't the desert bandit she had met so long ago. The boy who was so afraid of women. No, now he was basking in the glow of other females, even when he was attached to her. She had been so protective over him for so long, it had become second nature. Now, though, he wasn't the vulnerable bandit boy who needed her knowledge and protection from other women. Where as Vegeta was seemingly damaged. A problem that needed fixing. A loneliness that needed companionship, no matter how much he would deny it.

His eyes slowly came back into focus, taking in the creamy skin of her neck and shoulders. The barely noticeable white straps that were marring her naked flesh. He blinked, eyes focusing on the darkness of his closed lids. Wait, she had been naked, hadn't she? Why she was suddenly dressed, and staring at him with such a thoughtful look on her face?

His eyes reopened and focused back on her, but this time it wasn't a blank stare she received. This time they were wide and truly seeing her. Realizing that he was finally back to reality, she fell away from the bed and onto her butt. Dark eyes narrowed as they stayed locked onto her form, making her gulp.

"How did you get in here?"

His voice was still rounded and smooth. So much different than the usual sharp and gruff tone she got from him. "Through the door. Maybe next time you should think about locking it."

Shit! He had forgot to lock the door? Had he really been in that much of a hurry to relieve himself? "Maybe next time you'll think about knocking instead of just barging in. Or should I add voyeurism to your list of habits?"

"I was coming to apologize…."

"Bullshit. You've never apologized for anything before. Why start now?"

"Because I haven't done anything worth apologizing for," she shot back, pushing herself to her feet.

"But you're admitting that what you did was wrong now? How convenient." He lightly snorted as he discreetly started wiping his hand and stomach off with the edge of the bed's blanket.

Bulma felt her eyes shut tightly at his disbelieving tone. No one had ever made her own up to her mistakes before! Yet here she was, ready to give him a heartfelt apology for man-handling him the other night. All because she thought she had offended him, and now he wasn't even going to believe her because she had walked in on him! "Look, I'm sorry!" she finally blurted out, not caring if he would believe her not. She had already resigned herself to this fate, and she was beyond pissed that she wanted to apologize in the first place! "You were right, okay! I threw myself headlong into work, and that didn't even help stave off the loneliness!" Shit!

Vegeta gave her a confused yet curious look. "What the hell are talking about, woman? You have a planet full of your own kind. So how could you possibly be lonely?" The woman was constantly going out with those so-called friends of hers, always going out to shop or to do something work-related.

Why was she? It wasn't that she necessarily felt alone, but there was always a part of her that was lonely when she was among her friends and family. However, when she was around Vegeta she felt whole. Was it because she could intimidate all of her other friends? Hell, even her parents usually did as she asked/requested/told them to do! Especially when she started on some emotional tirade. Everyone knew not to question or deny her anything when she got to that point. Then along came Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, who blatantly pushed her away or yelled right back at her. Hell, he had even gone and challenged her on so many levels; she was honestly starting to become pleasantly surprised and happy to have him around. "I don't know." She directed her stare back towards his face, which was still quite serious looking.

"Then I'll tell you why. It's because you're annoying, selfish, and quite the bitch," he answered simply, hoping to get her riled up enough so that she'd leave him alone. Yet she didn't budge. In fact, she smirked, throwing him a little off-guard.

"So then I'm just like you." She didn't give him any time to retort as she continued, "I know what I want, and I don't take shit from anybody." Her eyes traveled the length of his body again. "And I want you." A hand rested on her hip as she dared him to deny her again, especially now that she wasn't drunk.

"And if I still don't want you?" he shot back without missing a beat or the look in her sparkling blue eyes.

The hand dropped from her hip as she sashayed over to him. "Then let me change your mind." She came to stand next to the bed, looking down at him. Her eyes roving over hard muscle and scarred flesh.

He felt his blood rush downwards, pulsing into his limp member at her attention. Of course, her state of dress wasn't helping his mind remember what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. She was always wearing such indecent and exposing clothing, and apparently today was no exception.

"Oh, looks like it doesn't take much to change your mind," she said playfully as her eyes landed on his semi-erection.

He wasn't about to give into her! So he could no longer deny that he was physically attracted to her, but he wouldn't give into her mentally. "If you want it so badly, come and get it." He kept his nonchalant attitude as he continued to challenge her, hoping she would back down if he pushed too far.

She lowered her right shoulder strap, revealing the top half of her breast. "It's just not all about you," she berated playfully.

He mentally growled. What a conniving little she-devil! He hadn't wanted to touch her, but it seemed challenging wasn't going to bring about her downfall. His left hand raised from the bed to skim across her hip and latch onto her butt. Giving her cotton covered bottom a rough squeeze.

It threw her off-balance, making her hands land on his chest. "So you're a butt guy," she teased, her face turning to look at his. Using her left hand, she grabbed his right hand and moved it under the neckline of her dress to let his fingers graze across her nipple. "Breasts are soft and squishy, too."

"Tch." He softly squeezed the mound of flesh in his right hand as she moved to straddle him. Her heated skin brushed against his, causing his body to react even more.

She sat up, resting her covered heat against his growing hardness. She slipped both her hands under the hem of her dress to toss it off her body and onto the floor. "Just be careful with me," she told him softly as she pulled at her underwear.

Vegeta grabbed the flimsy material and pulled, the thin straps around her hips easily tore in two, letting the garment slide from her skin as he held onto the scrap of fabric before throwing it to the floor. "I don't hold back on anything I do."

His voice finally held the gruffness she was used to, making a shiver run down her spine. "I'm not asking you to hold back." She rubbed against him, her hands resting back on his thighs. "I just don't want to end up with broken bones and covered in bruises, okay?"

At the feel of her wet heat sliding across him, his mind stopped fighting. "I know how to control my power. If I didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." A small, soft hand slithered between his legs, fingers stopping to caress his balls before wrapping around his shaft. His heart pumped faster and blood rushed through his veins at her touch. There was no turning back as soft wetness engulfed the head of his length.

She let out a soft gasp as she lowered herself. Her mind flooded with thoughts of how good it felt to have him inside her. The spots he was already hitting, without even moving. She could feel her eyes roll as he finally lifted his hips to meet her. "Fuck me," she whispered at the amazing friction. Before she could bask too much in the glow of feeling full and complete, she was flipped onto her back.

He hooked her legs low on his hips, her heels digging into his muscled ass. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as she shoved her fingers into the black depths of his hair. She pushed herself against him as he pounded into her at a steady pace. Her face raised up to brush their lips together. Her tongue once again running along the seam of his lips.

"Kiss me," she half-pleaded in her state of arousal. She pressed her lips back to his, but when he still didn't respond she pulled back again. "Please."

His lips lowered, teeth nipping at the soft and plump flesh. She moaned, opening her mouth. He ran his tongue along the abused flesh, collecting droplets of coppery tasting liquid. Her tongue met his, distracting the appendage from lapping at the small amount of blood.

He pulled back abruptly. "What are you doing to me?"

Her eyes were blurry, her brain was on a definite high, but she tried to understand what he was talking about. "I'm kissing you. Don't you….." His lips covered hers again, his tongue forcefully entering her mouth to explore her cavern before pulling back. Leaving her even more dazed and confused then she was before.

"I know what a kiss is, idiot!" he growled. Before he could open his mouth again, her hands were pulling him back down.

"Shut up, and do that again," she pleaded, her eyes wide and glowing with lust.

He complied, his tongue forcing it's way back inside her open mouth. Her tongue running along his in a greeting as she tried to gain access to his mouth. He pulled his tongue back from hers, letting her venture the threshold of his mouth before sucking. She moaned, her hands fisting even tighter around his spiked hair.

Her right foot slithered from it's position on his butt to move up his back, trying to get a better, deeper angle. She was so damn close, but she needed to feel just a bit more. She arched her back as the heel of her foot pressed into his lower back.

Vegeta shuddered as her heel pressed harshly into the flesh surrounding his tail stump. "Ah." He couldn't stop the reaction from happening. It certainly didn't help that her muscles contracted around his length, and his name rolled off her tongue at the exact same moment. He rested his forehead against her shoulder as he tried to calm his breathing. His open mouth inhaled the scent of strawberries, sending his mind into a spiral. 'Bulma, alcohol. The reason she had been drinking in the first place was because of that stupid scar-face! Was she going to go back to that fucking weakling now that she'd gotten what she wanted out of him?'

Bulma lay in a daze, her body still rippling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. However, a loud gasp tore from her throat as the comforting heat was ripped away from her. She instinctively grabbed for the blanket, covering her nakedness, as she heard a low growl.

How could he be so fucking stupid? Letting this woman into his bed, letting her use him. He stalked over to the small bathroom, not even bothering to flip on the light since he could see perfectly well with the small amount of light from the hallway. 'Stupid fucking woman! She could've at least closed the damn door!' What did it matter anyway? None of this had been planned. Hell, if he would've remembered to lock the thing in the first place; she never would've barged in.

Bulma lay back down, her head still spinning a little from all that had happened. She had finally gotten what she wanted. Now what? Did she go back to Yamcha? Tell him things were over because she'd found someone else to pine over? She almost started laughing at the thought. Her thoughts sobered as she heard the water in the bathroom shut off. What of Vegeta? Would he continue to run from her, or would he maybe give into her?

After exiting the bathroom, he went to the chest of drawers that held his last remaining battle suits. Putting a little more force into opening the drawer, and almost ripping it from it's hinges, he pulled out a suit and a pair of gloves. He slipped into the suit with grace and precision, as his gloves dangled from his mouth. After making sure the suit was adjusted properly, he took the gloves from his mouth and moved further away from the bed and dresser.

"Vegeta?"

Her soft voice hit a newly frayed nerve. His body tensed only slightly. Hoping she couldn't see it in the darkness that was enveloping him as he went to grab his boots, which were sitting in the far corner of the room. He grabbed one white boot, slipping it on.

"Where are you going?" she asked a little bit louder and stronger than she had spoken his name. Holding the blanket over her chest, she sat up again and watched his silhouette

"None of your fucking business," he bit out, pulling on the second boot. He turned to face her. "You got what you came for." His steps were heavy but precise as he pulled a white glove over his right hand as he headed toward the doorway.

The light from hallway illuminated his hard features and spiked hair. His hands raised so he could slip the left appendage into it's own white glove. Her back hunched slightly as she watched him walk out the door without another word. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, as the all to familiar feeling of loneliness closed in around her. She could feel a scream building in her lungs and trying to crawl up her throat, but she pressed her lips tightly together. 'He's not worth it,' she reminded herself. 'And if you let him see that this hurt you, he'll just rub it in your face even more when he returns.' It hurt worse than Yamcha not contacting her all week, though. A sob escaped before she could seal her lips shut. 'What a mess I've made.'


End file.
